Sleepless nights
by LilyBartAndTheOthers
Summary: Interpretations of Karen's dreams and the confusion left by their consequences. WK fic.
1. Getting accustomed to it

**Sleepless nights**

She turned the light off and stepped out of the bathroom. The carpeted floor was soft and warm under her bare feet. The breeze slid along her nape. He must have had opened one of the French windows during her furtive absence.

One step, another one, slowly and insecure; the beats of her heart followed the cadence in an anxious silence. The palm of her hands slid on her thighs along the silk of whatever piece of clothing she was wearing. And his eyes, focused on her as she came closer to him under the pale light of her bedside lamp.

A rush of timidity was taking possession of her little by little. She wasn't losing courage but self-confidence; a sense of realism. She felt torn between two sentiments where her barely hidden excitement in the process of anticipation found an odd resonance in the anxiety of the unknown. Like the first time when you're so scared and full of desire at the same time.

Hers had been a complete fiasco through which she had mistaken the avidity of popularity with the important meaning of a relationship, a real one. She had lost her virginity on top of a desk under the blank gaze of the portrait of one of the presidents of The United States. She had spent most her time looking for his name _ she had never liked History _ while her first lover was stealing away something she had never really understood or accepted.

Everything changed then, exactly as she had planned except for this penetrating ounce of bitterness that used to invade her mind as soon as she concentrated back on her first time.

If she could go backwards, she would choose another man.

She stopped a few inches away from him, studied his eyes. Both of them knew that what they were about to do wasn't right but they had already gone too far anyway and it was probably too late now.

She gasped as his hand caressed her shoulder and passed underneath her dressing gown. She felt it slide down her body; brush her lower back before getting stopped by the curves of her hips. He planted a kiss on her neck and she closed her eyes while plunging her fingers in his hair, pushing him closer to her flesh.

She hated sharing her intimacy with men because it made everything fly away and her character broke into pieces without any warning. Karen Walker vanished then, absorbed by the woman she couldn't stand; herself. She was at the mercy of their caresses, the trails of kisses they drew on her skin. And she abdicated completely, in all her weakness and the honesty of not being so different from the others at the end.

His hands pressed her waist and he made her lie down on the bed. She didn't try to resist, just looked at him as he slid between her legs and settled on top of her. She loved foreplays more than anything because it was long and sweet, yet intense. Like now; his lips went down her breasts, her lower stomach. She spread her legs instinctively as his fingers brushed her inner thighs. She arched her back under a silent request of lust.

Her anticipation was boiling in her veins until she reached a point of non-return and squeezed his waist then passed on top of him. She wanted to make his chest hers, the slightest bit of his skin. The palm of her hands absorbed the heat of his body; her lips joining her tongue in mischievous kisses.

Just a furtive gaze between his legs and she blushed, vaguely confused all of a sudden as if reality was getting control back over what they were doing. She had felt his hesitation when it had been his turn, when he had undressed her and faced for the first time her total nakedness. His fingertips had barely brushed her breasts at the beginning; he had probably closed his eyes as his kisses had led him to her inner thighs.

They were balancing between two worlds unsteadily where the limits of their friendship was fading away, laughing out loud at their so-called principles.

She rolled on her back and time got suspended. He was there, so close and breathless against her lips, between her legs. He leaned over and they got lost in a sensual kiss as their bodies melted in fusion. His thrusts were burning _ sweet torture of prohibited feelings _ as her sighs caressed his ears. She pressed his lower back in an instinctive motion to reduce even more the poor distance left between their sweating fleshes.

He bit her shoulder blade; she smiled in her moan, whispered his name.

"Oh, Will…"

A boiling warmness appeared in her lower stomach and she tightened her grip on him. A drop of sweat ran down her spine. It made her shiver. Her fingers slid through his hair and all of a sudden she held her breath, stayed still, overwhelmed by the orgasm stroking her body. Will came almost instantly.

He stayed on top of her and buried his face in her neck. She could feel his chest bumping against hers and the heat of his body between her legs. The tension was lowering slowly, absorbed in the release of their hormones and the soft sensation spread over by their feelings. She kissed his temple and closed her eyes.

As usual, reality made its way back to her mind slowly. She never jumped and almost sat up in bed wide awake, breathless; confused. She had had time to get accustomed to her dreams now, a numerous and bitter number of nights fantasizing about Will; no matter how wrong it should have been. She opened her eyes and fixed the shadows of a door in the darkness. She blinked and tightened her fists, ready to begin another sleepless night.

Sometimes Karen remained quiet in the emptiness of her house, in the loneliness of her life. And nobody but her knew about the boiling fantasies nourishing her mind; Will's last sigh in her neck, his smile against her mouth.


	2. At the beginning

**At the beginning**

They hadn't argued, hadn't kissed; hadn't got closer in any particular way. Nothing had changed between the two of them. She knew it because she had been thinking about it a lot, trying to find out the reason why her fantasies had set off all of a sudden then little by little invaded her mind and finally stolen her nights.

Perhaps it was a personal process that had nothing to do with him or his behavior towards her. She would have succumbed to a subconscious desire and accepted it, charmed. He wasn't to blame. Her mind seemed to control it all with a disturbing rightness.

Her fingers had simply slid between her legs. She had taken a deep breath _ relaxed against the pillows of her bed _ then let her feelings guide her to a furtive and so lonely paroxysm.

She had closed her eyes to picture out a scene. It helped to forget about her sad reality, all the rest. She imagined kisses going down her shoulder blades and the heat of some lips on her breasts; the intensity of some thrusts.

Then all of a sudden he had appeared in her mind and she had gasped, stopped everything. Her eyes wide opened she had stared blankly at the ceiling, trying to deal with the light incident caused by her brain. She might not have been enough concentrated and so her fantasies had wandered until the limits with her day-to-day thoughts. Very slowly she had come back to her self-ministrations and it hadn't taken her long to picture him out again on top of her.

Will…

This was probably the moment when everything had tipped over. She had let it go, appealed by the idea of a 'what if' and from then on he had inhabited her mind and imposed himself in her dreams.

Obsession: unwelcome, uncontrollable and persistent idea, thought, image or emotion that a person cannot help thinking even though it creates significant distress or anxiety

"Karen for the thousandth time… Please give me this fax!"

She jumped at Grace's annoyed tone and closed back the dictionary quickly. Her thumb got trapped between the heavy pages. She made a face and took it away, sucked on it.

"What are you looking at, anyway? Are you in a quest to expand your vocabulary?"

Design week, it was always the same. Grace was on the verge of a nervous breakdown and everyone remained instinctively quiet before her invectives. Sometimes, stress made people say things they didn't really think. There was no point to feel upset by their comments then.

In an effective and quick motion, she grabbed the paper out of the fax machine and tended it to her friend still nonetheless boss in this exact situation. Her manicure nails slid on the edge of Grace's desk and she bit her lower lip, hesitant. She crossed her legs, balanced timidly on them.

The words barely hit her lips that she swallowed them back immediately, grabbing the desk in her aborted attempt. His voice pierced the silence on her back. She looked down.

"Grace, drop out this pen immediately. Our table at Tavern on the Green is waiting for us."

Plunged in a furious movement of so-called drawing over a sketch, Grace laughed drily then shook her head.

"I'm way too busy. Take Karen instead."

Karen's eyes got locked on Grace's red hair. She frowned, swept away the harshness of her friend's suggestion. She might have been her assistant at the office but she wasn't also supposed to serve as a last-minute substitute for a lunch with someone else's best friend. Filling a hole; Karen Walker was over such a pitiful concept.

Will sighed heavily but his overplayed reaction passed completely unnoticed to Grace who remained focalized on her sketch. His brown eyes slid on Karen reluctantly. Obviously he had no desire to spend the slightest lunch in her company. She raised an eyebrow at him, a sort of 'take that' look. The resentment was at least mutual.

"Why the hell are you two still here? I need calm and concentration. Go away from this office!"

Not bearing a second more of Grace's constant nasty comments, Karen turned around and grabbed her bag, picked her coat on her chair then stepped out.

They went down the stairs in silence, their steps stifled by the carpeted floor. She passed the security guard at the door without a gaze towards him and pushed the door in a frank, self-confident motion. The difference of temperature hit her right away and she huddled up as a chilling air embraced her neck, sent shivers down her spine. It was lunchtime and the street was crowded. People in black and white suits were coming and going in a mechanical movement; a sort of modern choreography supposed to symbolize the boredom of some banal life.

She turned around and looked at him politely, exasperate though. It was the only weapon she had found out in order to fight the strong embarrassment that her fantasies stirred up now as soon as she had to face him. He didn't seem to care that much.

"Well, enjoy your meal. See you later."

She made a step forward and vaguely leaned over, looking for a cab to hail.

"Okay, come with me…"

Hands in the pockets of his coat, Will rolled his eyes at her and motioned with his head the way up the street. She stayed quiet, her face expressionless. Her hazel gaze was staring at him intently, suspiciously. He shrugged.

"I don't like being alone at the restaurant. I need some company."

She nodded _ comprehensive _ and murmured an inaudible agreement.

What Karen liked the most was the curve of his lips; just a sensual line, fine and graceful. She found it exciting and all she wanted then was to kiss him roughly.

She clenched her fists and swallowed back a boiling warmness twirling around in her stomach.


	3. Just a little idea going around

**Just a little idea going around**

Concentrated on a pointless article, she let her fingers wander over the desk until they hit the bottle. She grabbed it and took a sip of her beer. Spring seemed to have been absorbed by an early summer and the temperatures had risen unexpectedly in the morning, making the air unbearable in the office now. The drink was cool sliding along her throat, enjoyable enough to forget that Grace had deserted the place for a large part of the afternoon and as her assistant she was stuck there or at least it was supposed to be the rule.

She could have recognized his foot steps anywhere, in the middle of a Christmas crowd at Grand Central. They were light, fluid and self-assured; pretty man-ish when you thought about it. She passed her tongue over her lips in a hungry anticipation then closed her fashion magazine, stood up; turned around. Will passed the door and she smiled mischievously at him.

His briefcase landed on the floor loudly and very soon she found herself in his arms, lost in a deep and bold kiss. She arched her back and passed a leg around his waist to make him come closer. She needed to feel the heat of his body against hers and the physical reactions that logically followed. She loved arousing him more than anything. The teasing game was soft and yet intense enough to build in her stomach the premises of an orgasm. His hands and mouth did all the rest and then she succumbed, satisfied.

His fingers went down her thighs before passing underneath her skirt. Her thong slid on the floor. She pushed it away and settled against her desk.

Having sex at the office was probably one of the most classic fantasies but it still worked so well on the released excitement and the series of 'what if' that it set off. Perhaps people were rather perverted at the end, hoping silently to be caught up in the act; the feeling to be observed in the intensity of a carnal desire. And why would they be blamed after all? Perfection didn't really exist.

One of his hands approached her inner thighs. She bit her lower lip, stifling a heavy sigh of satisfaction. His tongue brushed her shoulder blades before going down slowly on her breasts.

Someone passed in the corridor but didn't stop. The bits of an incomprehensible conversation flew away in the quietness of the office and she finally relaxed; closed her eyes.

In an expert motion she undid his pants and pulled them down as her fingertips brushed him mischievously. She didn't have time to go further though. He made her turn around then bend over. She grabbed the desk.

All of a sudden she felt him inside of her. Her gasp got suspended in her mouth. She swallowed hard and began to match his thrusts. His kisses were covering her nape as his hands were travelling over her breasts, her hips. The lack of air was hard to bear but the angle of their position increased her feelings with such intensity that she remained quiet, almost still.

His tongue followed the shape of her ear and he bit her earlobe.

"Oh God… Will…"

She woke up frustrated, on the edge of an orgasm that hadn't had time to be released. She rolled on her back, blinked. The rain was pouring hard against the windows as the occasional lightning reflected odd forms on the ceiling. She frowned.

Sometimes after waking up, Karen had a thought for him. A mere act of curiosity over his potential reaction if he ever happened to learn about the springs of her fantasies; not that she felt like telling him but still. He had slept with Diane _ the worst failure of his life _ but Karen couldn't help wondering what kind of lover he could actually be. Was he rough or simply caring? She hadn't known Michael and the rest of his relationships owned a bitter shape of one-night stands vaguely aborted. Besides she couldn't tell, couldn't picture him out involved in some serious story. The images that floated in her head were purely sexual if not deprived of any sentiment at all.

It was shameful, wasn't it?

Alone in bed Karen spread her legs as her hand slid between them, still aroused.

It didn't take her long to reach her paroxysm, her own one. Then still breathless she got up and headed through the dark corridors of the penthouse. Everything was so quiet at this hour of the night that she could feel the coldness of the place contrast with her boiling blood in a drop of sweat running down her spine.

She made her way to the kitchen, turned the lights on. She grabbed a glass and poured some water in it then leaned her head backwards. She was tired _ her eyes sore _ but like every time her mind focused on Will, she couldn't go back to sleep and spent then the rest of the night looking blankly at the minutes pass by. Then the sun pierced through the curtains and life started again in a complete indifference before her tortured mind.

She put back the glass on the counter and was about to leave when a soft crack pierced the silence of the mansion. She frowned, perplexed. His shadow appeared in the corridor through a long and awkward figure deformed by the light. He stopped on the doorframe.

"What are you doing here, Karen; another insomnia?"

Curiously enough _ against all her expectations _ she felt like bursting into tears. It was almost three in the morning and he was just coming back home. Since when did this kind of pitiful detail about his well-known infidelities reach her so strongly?

A pale and disabuse smile lit up her lips. She looked down; the palm of her hand hitting the iciness of the marble counter top in a quest of balance.

"Well, I should go. I'm pretty tired."

Karen bit her lower lip and nodded bitterly. Her murmur got lost in the heaviness of his steps as he went away.

"Good night, Stanley…"


	4. The fog over our lives

**The fog over our lives**

The room had begun to spin around an hour earlier when she had stopped counting the glasses and the usual strong taste of Tequila had turned into a sort of sweet syrup that couldn't burn her lungs anymore. It seemed that her whole body had been absorbing the alcohol without the slightest complain unless she had just put her brain on pause, for a night.

The music in the background looked more like an odd murmur than the high keys of some talented saxophonist but the truth was that she had completely lost any kind of reference with the real world. She was drunk, completely drunk; and high.

Leaned on a pile of smooth pillows, Karen turned her head and giggled softly as she saw Jack and Grace sleeping. None of them had moved and retreated to their bedrooms. They were obviously too intoxicated for that and Will's living-room had suddenly turned into a better place to spend the night over. She brought the joint to her lips, closed her eyes as she inhaled. She loved the taste of it, fresh; light. The first time she had tried she was probably thirteen or so and it was with her cousin, hidden behind a weeping-willow. She remembered that it was raining and the sound of the water had been multiplied by the effects of the drug. She had been bewitched, right away.

A moan of pleasure slid along her lips. She smiled, satisfied then stretched out her legs before realizing that she was laid on the floor. When had she moved from the couch exactly? She had no memory of it at all.

A quick glance on her right and she picked her bottle of beer, took a sip. Most of the people would have found her behavior pathetic _ she should have been more responsible at her age _ but she had always had a thing to shock the crowd. At least it gave her the sentiment to exist and to be noticed. Besides she needed a break from the mansion and the growing tensions between her and Stanley. She had married a shadow, a sort of ghost that wandered through the corridors from time to time in a reassuring motion to remind her that yes, he was still vaguely alive. They just didn't share the same agenda; barely the same life.

"You'd share with the rest of the class…"

Will's voice made her sober immediately. She leaned up on her elbows and stared at him, surprised. He was sat against the sofa in front of her, contemplating blankly the flames dancing in the fireplace. He looked like hypnotized. She hadn't thought that he could still be awake.

Unsteadily she sat up then dragged herself to him, unable to stand up and walk properly. Her primary demeanor made him giggle. Obviously he was as drunk as her. She hadn't seen him touch the slightest glass of alcohol though. The fact was that she had concentrated on Jack to forget about her fantasies, those recurrent ones where Will had the lead role and she shivered in his arms; under his touch.

She finally made her way to him then sat down by his side with a heavy torpor but her lack of balance brought her on his lap and they burst out laughing. She tended him the bottle of beer and moved backwards on his legs.

He probably did something funny _ or not _ because all of a sudden Karen bent over, taken away by a strong and incontrollable laugh. The palm of her hand landed on his inner thigh.

_Some people say that nothing happens by accident; that everything is planned, desired._

She swallowed hard, passed her tongue over her lips then looked up at him. It wasn't more the fact that a ridiculous grin was lighting up his features than the way he suddenly passed his hand through her hair; she saw it as a sign, no mattered Grace and Jack were just there by their sides. Her fingers slid over the fabric of his pants, caressed his shaft. Will spread his legs instinctively and sighed in anticipation; bottle of beer in hand.

Very slowly she unzipped his trousers and got rid of his boxers. He didn't oppose any resistance, on the contrary. And before knowing it her tongue was taking possession of him.

His body was hot against her lips _ between her fingers _ and the effects of pot were going to her head in a dizzy, arousing motion. She placed herself between his legs as he pushed her closer, moaning inaudibly. All she could think about by then was the contact of her flesh with his and the blurry reminiscence of some stranger saying that oral sex wasn't cheating. Did she really mind about Stanley? He had gone from a mistress to another since the day she had met him. The reason of their marriage was still a complete mystery.

She wouldn't have been able to say whether she was a real expert but the years had taught her to fully understand _ and act in consequence _ before her partner's reaction as the blowjob was turning at some point in an intense non-return. Feeling him shiver, she stopped; kneeled up on her knees. Her intoxicated eyes looked for his and she stared at him mischievously as she took off her thong then straddled him.

The new position reduced the distance between their faces. She swallowed hard, making him hers in their singular _ if not unexpected _ fusion. She looked at Grace and Jack for a furtive second then finally leaned over to capture his lips as she began to move on top of him.

His mouth was moist against her skin, his hands soft over her breasts. If she closed her eyes more than five seconds, she lost her balance and took him backwards in the intensity of her thrusts. So she kept on observing him, burying her face in his neck; sucking on his earlobe as his fingertips were brushing her flesh.

From the fact she was married to the presence of their friends, it seemed that the whole situation was dominated by a strong sentiment of incongruousness but the truth was that it resulted even more exciting at the end. She bit his lower lip, smiled in his mouth and swallowed back her sighs over and over. They were quiet _ almost too sober all of a sudden _ and all they could hear was the crackling of the wood in the fireplace.

Her orgasm stroke her without any warning. She arched her back, gasped then felt him join her in the exhilaration of a prohibited transcendence that had nonetheless crossed the limits of her mind.

She leaned her forehead against his, breathless. Her eyes were fixed on his lips, swollen by the rush of blood set off by his feelings. Karen broke apart, put her thong on and lit another joint while laying on the floor; her feet caressing his lap.

Then everything turned dark.


	5. In the morning light

**In the morning light**

From the moment she opened her eyes, Karen thought that she had died. Her body seemed to have vanished under an intense torpor and she couldn't feel it anymore for having spent most of the night lay down on the hardwood floor. A few seconds passed by _ slowly _ and all of a sudden she realized that her head was resting on Jack's stomach. Careful not to wake up any of her friends, she rolled on her back and stared at the ceiling. Her brain was pounding loud, hitting her temples badly as her mouth was dry and she felt weak.

A hangover; it hadn't happened in years but the sensations were still surely the same ones, unbearable. She cautiously leaned up on her elbows but very quickly took off her feet from Will's lap. It wasn't appropriate, especially after the dream she had had. Alcohol always had such an arousing effect on her but the truth was that this time, it had sounded real, almost too much. Besides she hadn't woken up after it or at least she didn't think so. She didn't remember the slightest thing.

She mechanically stood up and headed to the bathroom, her bag in hand in order to freshen up a little. When she usually loved sleeping, curiously enough she was always the first one to wake up after this kind of evenings and so she took her time under the shower, enjoying the strength of the water on her face; running down her legs.

Her skirt slid down on the floor and she stepped in the tub, turned the water on. Something kept on weighing mysteriously on her heart; a sort of uncomfortable feeling that wouldn't go away until she got to know the exact essence of it. Was it all about her last fantasy? She didn't speak in her sleep. Stanley even made fun of her for this peculiar characteristic because she was so talkative while awake. It didn't match at all. So none of her friends could have had a guess over what her subconscious was dictating to her mind throughout erotic images of a night in Will's arms.

It was still so vivid though. She had felt his mouth against her breasts, his hands running on her inner thighs and the intensity of their thrusts as she had straddled him in the exhilaration provoked by drugs and alcohol. Her tongue had brushed his earlobe, explored his lips in a lustful intention.

She shivered and came back to reality under the shower; aroused. What was wrong with her? As if those sleepless nights of prohibited desires weren't enough, she had to bear them during the day too? Growing in frustration she stopped the water then stepped out, grabbed a bath towel.

She wrapped it around her frame before picking up her skirt abandoned on the floor. She could hear voices behind the door, coming from the living-room. Obviously they had awoken and everyone was trying to deal now with the aftermath of abusive drinking.

She was about to put her skirt back on when a little stain on the dark fabric caught up her attention. She rolled her eyes in exasperation. She didn't have any other outfit with her; not that it would ever be noticed since it was at the base of it but still, she hated wearing something dirty.

At this exact moment her brain set off a whole wave of iciness that against all expectations released her cells and they began to work, boiling in impatience. It hit her strongly like a flash in the middle of the dark and she couldn't help but gasp; let go of the skirt as she covered her mouth with a shaking hand.

"Karen, are you still alive?"

"Yeah, sure; give me five minutes."

Her voice came up by itself. She didn't control it at all and she surprised herself adopting instinctive gestures before the way the world kept on turning. Her legs began to shake. She slid down on the floor and leaned against the ceramic of the tub, closed her eyes.

It hadn't been a dream. It hadn't been a dream at all. She had slept with Will, barely five inches away from Jack and Grace. She had felt her orgasm run throughout her body and she had smiled in his mouth as he had come too, between her legs. She had indeed straddled him.

Her breath became shorter and she started hyperventilating. The panic rushing all over her body wasn't a usual one. This time the mere idea seemed to get lost in a whirl of shame and everything got mixed; all upside down in her head.

She had made the first step. She had seduced him and went throughout a whole session of oral sex before finally having her way with him.

"Karen, you're not alone! Step out of the bathroom, please!"

Grace's complain made her jump and she stared at the door in disbelief; her eyes wide opened. How could she face Will now? As soon as his brown gaze stopped on her she would wish nothing but dying at the scene; vanishing far, very far and never come back.

She didn't find the strength to actually move forward but like her first reply she nonetheless managed to come out, her sunglasses on though. Grace said something but she ignored her comment and abandoned her bag on the sofa.

Will was in the kitchen area, cooking. How could he feel like smelling eggs and bacon after having drunk so much the night before? A wave of nausea ran through her body and she swallowed hard then blushed as he suddenly looked up at her.

Of course Jack was nowhere to be seen _ probably having a shower _ and she had to stay alone with Will for the most awkward moment of her existence.

"Do you want some scrambled eggs? The Vodka's in the fridge if you're thirsty."

Without knowing why Karen made a few steps towards him. She opened the door of the fridge. The iciness contrasted sharply with the heat stirred up by his presence next to her. Why was this kitchen so small? Why was he so close to her? She could feel his breath on her nape. In a sudden motion she turned around and looked at him. He was holding a fork matter-of-factly. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath then cleared her voice. Her tongue slid on her lips. They were dry.

"Hmm, I… About last…"

Her voice was inaudible, covered by a tune playing on the radio. Obviously Will didn't hear her and he started humming along the song. How could he be so relaxed when she was simply freaking out?

"Will… About last night…"

This time he turned around, nodded at her. His hips were still moving, following the rhythm of the tune. Her courage brushed her lips but disappeared all of a sudden in the depths of her heart and her cowardice invaded her mind. She stayed quiet but raised her eyebrows in what she wanted to be seen as an implicit, quiet explanation.

"Why, what happened last night?"

Grace stepped out of the bathroom and put an abrupt end to the awkward conversation going on.

"Will, give me your wallet. I need twenty bucks and several dozens of donuts."

"Yeah hold on a second. Karen and I were speaking."

His brown gaze landed back on her. He blinked, obviously waiting for her to go into further explanation.

This is when she realized that he didn't remember the slightest thing. Curiously enough she should have felt relieved but instead her heart simply broke into pieces. She looked down and shook her head.

"Never mind, honey…"


	6. Is the world just appearances?

**Is the world just appearances?**

Her back hit the wall as he pressed her against it. She didn't mind anymore at that point. As a matter of fact, it even added something _ an exciting feeling _ to the way his tongue was caressing hers and all of a sudden Karen wished only one thing: to fuck Will.

She was in need of rough sex. The kind that let you exhausted and yet so satisfied, alive. She wanted him entirely and without any concession; no mattered it wasn't fair or whatever. She was dying for feeling him inside of her, his hips matching hers in torturing thrusts until she shivered in his arms and sighed; then smiled.

She was just asking for some company that would brighten her lonely days.

His hands travelled underneath her skirt. He pulled off her thong; she unzipped his trousers. She was now the one giving into their kiss; the one who led every single motion and softly bit the other's bottom lip. Whenever they were so close, she used to think about Diane and what he had felt exactly by then. It had been his first time _ a different failure from hers _ and it had determined a lot of things, then. So why did he always come back to her?

His tongue slid on her neck and she pushed him closer. The rain was hitting the windows in a regular pace while the murmur of the fax machine brought a singular music to the background. He suddenly lifted her and she smiled in a furtive anticipation of what was coming next.

She had kissed a woman once. Her hands had begun to run all along her body but when she had squeezed her waist, something had been missing. She had understood that day that she was straight, period. Sure she could have gone into some oral sex sessions or three-ways _ hit her climax _ but she was all for men at the end; like now. The palm of her hand gently pressed his buttocks and she contracted her muscles, making him shiver and moan. Curiously enough she knew men by heart, all their reactions and how to drive them crazy. But women remained a complete mystery to her and she was scared of them, uncomfortable in their presence. That was probably why she didn't deal that well with her own persona.

They began to move in rhythm as their breaths became louder. It had to be quick but yet satisfying since they were at Grace's office and anybody could come in, at any moment. Besides a knee-tembler wasn't made to last that long. It was exhausting.

She squeezed his waist with strength, trying not to weigh too much around him but still looking for an appropriate balance and the right angle that would bring her exhilarating feelings. His hands supported her hips while his lips were travelling on her chest, her neck.

She felt her orgasm warmed up her inner thighs and caressed her stomach. She arched her back, on the edge of it.

"Karen, do you ever listen to me?"

Breathless she came back to reality and swallowed hard. Grace was mere inches away from her face. She looked exasperated.

Daydreaming; she had always loved cutting off with the rest of the world if only for a few minutes and live a better life in her own head, secretly. But the truth was that it was the first time she went for erotic fantasies while having some company. The realization made her blush.

"Yeah, sorry honey… I'm a little tired. I still have to cope with our last evening; weirdly enough."

She put on her sunglasses and grabbed the first magazine she found on her desk. The diversion was poorly classical but it had the credits to work pretty well. Of course she had overcome the major drinking of their past time but she congratulated herself for not having completely lied at her friend either. She was still thinking about Will and how they had slept together; how he had forgotten everything and her heart had then broken into pieces. Well, maybe not her heart but her integrity.

There was a huge difference between making a mistake and having no memory whatsoever of a one-night stand with a close friend. It had never happened to her before and it hurt. It hurt a lot to be so easily forgotten.

Grace rolled her eyes then nodded.

"Oh I see what you mean. I guess I'm not about to go for Tequila shots that soon. I wish I were like Will…"

The last comment let Karen perplexed. Intrigued, she looked up from her fashion publication and frowned at Grace, shook her head in confusion.

"What do you mean you wish you were like Will? I don't get it."

Grace shrugged. She headed to the coffee maker and refilled her mug. The way she was taking her time got on Karen's nerves but she remained quiet, just in case it would stir up any wonder.

"Why, you know how he is. Call him party pooper if you want but at least he knows his limits and he never crosses them. He might drink but always stops on time. He never had a single hangover since the day I met him."

A chill ran down Karen's spine as Grace's words seemed to fill the air with a cruel logic that for some reason she hadn't been able to notice by herself before. Her hands began to shake. She put them back slowly on the desk. She blinked.

"So as for our last evening when we all fell asleep in the living-room…"

Grace raised an eyebrow at her. Obviously she was surprised by Karen's sudden ingenuity. She took a sip of her coffee and nodded.

"Yeah, he wasn't drunk at all."

_So he remembers everything._

Karen swallowed hard then bit the inside of her mouth to prevent from crying.


	7. Floating above

**Floating above**

A siren pierced the soft murmur of the traffic in the background, far away. Sat on a plastic chair, she took a deep breath and tightened her grip on the black umbrella she was holding. The air was chilling and it made her shiver as it hit her lungs a bit too quickly. It had been raining for three days in a row, taking New York away in a monotone motion under heavy clouds and a gray _ dark _ sky. It reminded her of Portland and the gloomy colors that seemed to slide over the landscape. Everything was slow then, sad somehow.

She didn't check her watch but thought about the time. It hadn't crossed her mind until now that he might decide not to come. Nobody turned her down; nobody forgot her. She had a high-esteem of herself but always found an excuse in her backgrounds, pitifully enough. That was why she got hit so hard by the twists of life though. Her self-confidence was too strong and sometimes it made her crash back into reality with a logical bitterness. But she didn't learn a single thing from it. She didn't want to. And now she was there, wondering all of a sudden what would happen if he didn't come because there was always some possibility at the end.

Will literally rushed out of the cab without waiting for the driver to give him back his change then ran to the ferry. He jumped on the deck and the siren of the boat announced the imminent departure. If he had taken the subway, he would have made it on time; very easily. He knew it. But the truth was that while getting stuck in the traffic, he had had time enough to prepare a pointless speech or so then hesitate, fighting against the urge to come back home and ignore Karen's request.

Catching up his breath he leaned against a door and all of a sudden realized that the ferry was empty. At the same time what kind of people would enjoy a ride _ even a free one _ under the rain? She had probably anticipated the idea which would explain her mysterious choice over this place. It was far from the boiling heart of Manhattan; far from their lives.

Will turned around and observed the room inside. She wasn't there. But all of a sudden he caught up the reflection of a black umbrella on the deck opposite him. She was facing the skylines, lost in the middle of a row of orange plastic chairs. It could have been someone else _ hidden behind the dark circle of fine fabric _ but as he looked down he noticed her ankles and the tattoo on one of them. He moved forward.

A light smile played on her lips as she heard steps in her back. She furtively looked down, concentrated back on Manhattan fading away in front of her. He sat next to her; she ignored the pace of her heart led by a sudden anxiety.

"Why did you lie to me?"

She wasn't there to go around, flirt with the obvious reason why she had asked him to come over in the first place. Her absence of introduction might have taken him aback but she was too angry to control her feelings.

Will sighed then rolled his eyes.

"What would it have changed if I had confirmed your doubts?"

"I have never had any doubt."

Her voice was dry and her words precipitated as if she had been rehearsing the scene over and over in her head and it was now heading to what was expected, so easily.

"Then what would it have changed since you knew everything?"

His indifference shocked her. She scoffed and made eye contact with him, shook her head.

"Damn Will, I'm married! And you… Me… Well how can you be so detached from what we did?"

"See, this is the exact reason why I told you…"

"You didn't tell me the slightest thing."

"Okay so I let you understand that I didn't have any memory of it. I knew that at some point you would freak out _ which is fair enough, don't misunderstand me _ and all those questions would come out and… Well, I just didn't want that."

"You can't ignore or pretend to ignore real facts, Will; no matter how they freak you out. You have to assume them and face them and… Deal with them. You're an adult, not a kid."

"And what am I supposed to say about it? I don't deny anything. We had sex; it did happen. Honestly I wasn't expecting it at all but…"

"But you didn't push me away either."

The conversation had been fluid, weirdly enough, until then. His comments had matched hers with a harsh logic, at a high speed. But all of a sudden Will smirked and shrugged; narrowed his eyes. She looked at him with perplexity. Was he hesitating?

"You didn't let me a chance to push you away."

"What the hell are you talking about? Oh come on, I didn't rape you! I can't believe… Oh God, I can't believe you're saying that. Who are you? I thought I knew you pretty well until now but…"

"No, I mean that when someone goes straight for a blowjob on you and you have drunk a little well it's hard to say no. I don't even speak about the last time I had had sex. I'm pretty thankful towards you for that."

"But you're gay."

"And so what? I did enjoy having my way with you. It was good."

The quietness of his tone troubled her a lot. If only she could cope with it as he did, things would be different, easier. But he didn't have any fantasy about her, didn't go from sleepless night to sleepless night because of a zillion prohibited dreams. She clenched her fists. She was jealous of him.

She stood up suddenly and left. She was angry with herself and needed to walk, to pace the empty deck no matter it was under the rain.

"Karen, wait!"

She felt his hand on her wrist but her reply got lost in his mouth as he made her turn around and kissed her deeply, pressing her back against a wall. She let go of her umbrella. It rolled on the floor and got trapped in the mechanism of the plastic chairs. But she didn't care that much at this point, even less of the rain. Her hands had already unzipped his pants and she was squeezing his waist, arousing him with an impressive effectiveness.

She gasped as he entered her, swallowed hard.

She never crossed his gaze. She focalized on his thrusts and the taste of his lips on her skin; the heat of his breath on her neck. She closed her eyes and tried to ignore it was Will. The idea of a complete stranger was quite exciting even though his caresses were enough to stir up intense feelings. Raindrops ran along her face, got lost at the very far end of her hands; brushed her bare thighs.

She stifled a last moan in his neck, shivered but didn't let go of him because she knew that it was once they broke apart that she started regretting it.


	8. And now ladies and gentlemen

**And now ladies and gentlemen**

She closed her fan in a furtive, almost violent movement. There was nothing worst to stop because then you realized that the wind you had caused all along had only managed to increase the sensation of heat left after and you were there, suffocating before the lack of air.

A disabuse gaze towards her empty glass and she looked up at Will sat opposite her at the table. As if the elements had been copying the illogical events of her existence, the rain had suddenly vanished, substituted by irrespirable temperatures that were normally barely reached, not even in August. Nothing made sense anymore, absolutely nothing.

The top of her fan began to caress her neck. She smirked at him seductively enough to make him blush but one more time he pretended not to pay attention at all. It made her smile.

It could have been his fingertips caressing her skin, going down her chest slowly. His lips would have followed _ his foreplays were always a sweet torture _ and before realizing it, Karen would have moaned, succumbed to his touch. She crossed her legs and leaned over to grab her pack of cigarettes abandoned on the table. She didn't feel like smoking but simply arouse his friend; tease him with her generous cleavage.

He moved nervously on his seat; oh, pleasant sound of victory.

She bit her lower lip.

If she had had to clear up everything, Karen wouldn't have been able to come up with a proper comment. They had had sex on the ferry but nothing else had happened then. She hadn't tried to call him _ it hadn't even crossed her mind _ but yet could she really say that they had turned the page? The answer was negative, for whatever reason. As much as she had already tasted it, the notion of an affair and secret encounters in creepy hotel rooms didn't sound that appealing. She didn't even want to cheat on Stanley. But then there was Will, his burning thrusts against her hips.

And that was something she wanted more than anything.

"Karen, do you have a swimming-pool? You never mentioned it before."

Grace's question made her leave her daydreams abruptly. She turned around, looked at her friend and nodded, her mouth wide open. She stayed quiet though. The heat tended to make her feel exhausted.

"You really do? Where is it?"

Her hazel eyes followed Jack's blue ones. Her tongue hit her lips. She was thirsty.

"It's on the last floor, right next to the greenhouse. But I don't go there very often. You know what it is with the kids messing it up constantly. I have absolutely no intimacy when they're at home."

The conversation went on and she focused back on Will. A week had passed by since the episode of the ferry and curiously enough, she hadn't had any other dream about him. It left her sad, incomplete somehow. She had fought so much for it to stop that now it might have done so, it was like a part of her day-to-day life had vanished at the same time. She had grown accustomed to it, in an odd way of a shameful prohibition.

She opened back her fan but kept on staring at him. His eyes seemed to be focalized on her fingers, the exact same ones that had caressed him mischievously, yet with a burning desire the first time they had slept together. Her tongue slid again on her lips but with a whole different intention, a more private one; bold. What if Grace and Jack left all of a sudden and they would find themselves alone? What if they had to deal with a face-to-face while the pace of their hearts would irrevocably speed up until the release of their sexual desires reached their apogee? What would be her first move?

As a matter of fact, she already could make contact.

Her foot slid out of her high heel discreetly. The fabric of Jack's pants vaguely brushed her tiptoes as she tended her leg but the furtiveness of it made it pass completely unnoticed. She reached Will's knee. He raised an eyebrow at her, surprised perhaps though he never really showed it.

She started drawing little circles on his thighs, getting closer and closer every time; vaguely pushing his hip apart so that he spread his legs. He did. She smiled, accelerated the movements of her fan to get more wind.

She wouldn't have imagined that it would arouse her so much; that reaching the aim of her mischievous project would send shivers to her spine and she would swallow hard before the reaction stirred up by the bold massage. She could feel him get hard under her touch, exactly like their first time against the sofa in the living-room; and the way he had pressed his body between her legs _ still fully dressed _ on the ferry. It was exciting but almost too frustrating for not being able to properly reach him, feel him inside of her.

She pressed her foot harder against him. His face showed no expression at all. How did he manage such a control over his feelings when obviously, he was reacting pretty well to her ministrations? Then she could wonder how many times he had actually fooled them all, about a million different things. And all of a sudden the person she had thought to know only turned to be a complete mystery.

She speeded up the pace.

"Is Stanley coming with you, Karen?"

The call of her name took her aback as she had made abstraction of the discussion. She blinked at Grace, smiled in order to win time.

"I'm speaking about the fourth of July party you organize every year. Is he coming with you?"

Three weeksleft ; he was in South Africa for a so-called business trip. They hadn't even talked about the party. Invitations had probably already been sent. She didn't even have to confirm the slightest thing to her husband's assistant. It was as logical as the celebration of Thanksgiving.

She felt Will come, barely restrained a smile then shook her head at Grace.

"No, I don't think so. That's why I need a date."

Her foot slid on his thigh, she smiled at him.

She would be accompanied by mister Will Truman.


	9. Consequences of an argument

**Consequences of an argument**

"No."

His answer took her aback with such a surprise that she almost lost her balance and had to grab the edge of the oak desk. Her blood turned icy in her veins and before she could ever control it, she felt the blush rush to her cheeks. Her lips began to shake.

"Excuse me?"

Karen jumped as Will closed the file he had been holding all along and put it aside. One more time she could blame her self-confidence. It hadn't even crossed her mind that he could actually turn her down. Would she ever learn that life didn't always turn the way she had planned? Will crossed his hands and very calmly leaned his chin on them. He shrugged, obviously indifferent.

"I'm not available for the fourth of July. I'm afraid you will have to find someone else."

"But…"

She would have loved throwing a fit, sending a thousand invectives to his face then rushing out of his office with the satisfaction to have dominated the whole conversation. But for the moment his behavior let her speechless, extremely confused and she felt hurt for whatever reason she didn't want to explain.

"As long as I know the only clause of exclusivity you have over me is strictly professional. And it has nothing to do with the degree of privacy we might have reached lately."

A phone rang in the background but she kept on staring at Will. The truth was that if they hadn't known each other so well _ or were supposed to, now everything got blurry _ she would have burst into tears. She had never been treated that way. Perhaps she deserved it at some point; a fair twist in her existence. But still, it hurt somewhere deep inside, in a place that had passed completely unnoticed until then.

"You're an asshole, Will; a perfect little, tight ass. And you won't fool me anymore."

She turned around and made her way to the door, grabbed the knob.

"You know it has nothing to do with you."

His voice had found back the tone she knew, less self-assured; soft. She stopped but didn't turn around to face him.

"Not really, no; you're so different when you're alone with me. You're harsh, egocentric and so far from what you are, the rest of the time. I don't get it. I don't like that."

His movement must have been fluid because she didn't hear him stand up and his sudden hand on her shoulder made her jump. She looked for his brown eyes, confused.

"You're scared Will, aren't you? That's why you act this way with me."

"No, I'm not."

How could he be so calm when the pace of her own heart didn't stop increasing under the closeness of their bodies and their conversation, intimate enough to be apprehended.

"Then what is it and who are you? I can't believe you're both… No, there must be a role, at some point. Please, tell me I'm right."

His hand suddenly slid on her nape. She shivered, swallowed hard as a disabuse smile played on his lips.

"This is the reason why. The way you react under my touch, as soon as my hand brushed your skin; this is wrong, Karen. And you know it is."

"It's just a feeling…"

She shrugged but her apparent calm didn't fool him and he shook his head. Something seemed to float over his eyes, a sort of pale veil; as if he were exhausted. She frowned.

"You don't have any plan for the fourth of July, do you?"

"I won't do that to Stanley and pretend to be a good friend when in his back I'm screwing his wife. I'm sorry but I can't. I can't do that."

A couple of seconds flew away.

"There's a small hotel on West 86th, at the corner of Amsterdam. Meet me there at five."

She broke her heart through her own words and the easiness with which she made a step further in their dangerous relationship. But he had used a present tense in his last sentence and that was all she had actually noticed. He was wishing for more, like her.

And before realizing it, it had slid along her lips with the effectiveness of the biggest mistakes, the ones you wouldn't be able to erase.

Stanley was unfaithful or at least she thought so. As a matter of fact she had absolutely no proof, only doubts; vague ones. What did she know about the life of a businessman anyway? She only got the money at the end of the process, barely wondering where it came from. It belonged to a logic that didn't need to be thought. His absences didn't pass unnoticed but the truth was that she was barely at home either since she had started working for Grace. Maybe she was just wrong about him.

She stepped out in the street and looked blankly at the crowd going on. She had a lover. It was official now. Blinking, she began to walk down towards Chelsea. Her heart was beating slowly, heavily. She swallowed hard.

"A coffee, please; a strong one…"

She tended a bill of five and took her drink. It was hot against her fingers, almost too much; which was weird because she used to get a coffee every day and she only noticed it now. What had she been thinking during all these previous years?

She finally entered the building, caught up the elevators. When she stepped in the office, Grace was working. She put down her coffee on her desk and went to the toilets. She locked the door behind her and looked at her reflection in the mirror; burst into tears.


	10. Deal, assume and smile

**Deal, assume and smile**

Time seemed to fly away until he actually passed the door and she realized that she wasn't prepared at all. Sat on the edge of the bed the mattress suddenly turned uncomfortable, too hard. She looked at him come in, her feet balancing in a nervous motion from right to left. It wasn't about what they were about to do _ what it meant _ but the unexpected sentiment of intimidation set off by her wonders.

He had never seen her naked. They had had sex twice but she had never got fully undressed and to be honest, spreading her legs sounded easier than appearing in her bare flesh in front of him. She couldn't cheat by then, couldn't pretend anything. She opened her soul to him when she still had problems to deal with her own identity.

Their relation was taking an odd path all of a sudden. The chronology of logic didn't find any resonance in their acts. It was all upside down like the bitter reflection of her head, this permanent confusion.

Will made an awkward step towards her, a very timid one. The whole situation was calculated and it made a big difference with the other times. She intended a smile but her lips froze in a vain attempt and she looked down as he sat next to her. The mattress responded to his weight in a discreet metallic sound.

Perhaps they should wait, go into some conversation _ even a casual one _ and when the atmosphere was less heavy she would lean over and capture his lips. It sounded like the right thing to do but his hand suddenly slid on her lower back and she let him do. She closed her eyes as he lay her down and his body pressed against hers. His kisses were soft yet a bit shy. The adrenalin of the previous times seemed to rush in a different way to their veins. As much as she could feel the tension grow up, the carnal dimension had faded away.

It was just sweet, way too much.

But she got trapped in his hands, the way his kisses left a trail on her skin and the very soon intensity of his thrusts. It was exactly like in her dreams; identical movements, bold initiatives and the sentiment to be unique. She buried her face in his neck and sucked on the skin, softly in a desire to contrast with the speed of their hips.

Then it became blurry. Her orgasm hit her and everything got mixed in her head. She held him tighter but more in a mechanical gesture than a proof of attention. They rolled on their side _ breathless _ but she meticulously avoided his gaze. She left him break apart, reluctantly enough to feel a urge of guilt invade her heart. She immediately turned her back at him, apologized in silence for her lack of sweetness. Maybe he loved cuddling; she did. But not this time, not now; way too many things already didn't sound right.

A few seconds passed by before him speaking. His hand brushed her shoulder. She shivered.

"Karen, are you okay?"

Unable to articulate the slightest sound, she vaguely nodded at the wall in front of her. What if she turned around and settled against him? They would come back to the quiet pace of their regular heartbeats together with the sensation to be one, a single and unique entity.

"Please, go away now."

The harshness of her request hurt her and she briefly wondered if it had reached him with the same intensity. It wasn't fair at all. She was being mean when obviously he was going through an identical path; maybe even worst. He had just slept with a woman and she was turning him down like a worn piece of meat.

"Karen… I know you're not…"

"I asked you to go away! So do!"

"And what if I don't?"

Her fists released the sheets she had been clutched to frustratingly. She sighed then got up.

"Damn, fuck you Will!"

She locked the door of the bathroom behind her, grabbed a bathrobe then slid down on the floor. Her sobs seemed to resound loudly against the bare walls and the more she tried to stifle them, the more it hurt on her throat. It didn't take him long before knocking. She stayed quiet though.

"Karen, speak to me. Please… Don't do that. You need to let everything come out. You're not alone. You're not the only one to blame. Karen, please… Let me come in."

His voice was soft but yet determined and firm. If she had opened her mouth to speak, she would have bet that her tone would have been shaking and lacking self-confidence. Why did she always have to green with envy at him? Maybe it was the key of everything. She wasn't sexually attracted to him but simply wished to be him, to look like him.

The wonder made her frown.

"Karen, you're confusing me. Say something, please. I'm not… I…"

"Why do you enjoy being with me?"

She sat down properly on the floor and leaned against the door. She closed her eyes, imagined him doing the same on the other side.

Complementary; she hated the word for it sounding scientific, deprived of feeling. But its meaning was still strong enough to make her hope and dream. She heard him sigh, softly not exasperated.

"It's when you look at me. I can't really explain it but… It warms me up; it makes me smile. You're so different when there's no reason to lie."

Her hand slid up on the doorknob. She grabbed it. The metal was cold against her palm. She began to turn it but finally stopped. She was dying to open the door then rush in his arms. The sincerity of his words had touched her a lot more than what she had expected; no matter the high degree of incomprehension that was reigning over their friendship.

She bit her lower lip.

But it was so wrong.

"Karen…"

Her heart speeded up its pace and she rolled her eyes in a frustrated motion. She opened the door slowly _ ajar to let him know that she was alright _ but she stayed on the floor, shrugged.

"I guess I need time."


	11. Through her gaze

**Through her gaze**

She narrowed her eyes and bit her lower lip. Her breath was loud, following the high speed of her blood running through her veins. She could feel her heart pound against her chest and the latent pain of her nails digging in the palm of her hands. Her gaze was heavy and cold; a sort of reflection of the silence that had suddenly invaded the library after the storm of their argument.

He might have been taller, it didn't change anything. She held his gaze with the quietness of a perfect control over her nerves. It was part of her strength, this incomprehensible aspect of her character that people identified with courage when it was just about craziness. She had already paid for her boldness _ more than once _ but something kept on preventing her from abdicating and so she went on, fighting for her ideas.

Besides she knew that with Stanley it was all safe. He would have never touched her, never dared to. So she wasn't scared of him at the end. Perhaps she should consider her lack of feelings towards her husband as a chance since her neutrality allowed her to dominate him, whatever happened.

Very slowly she opened her mouth in the desire to keep the argument alive. It was relieving _ completely unfair _ but at least she could release her frustration with a so-called excuse and she felt like she was logically punished for her affair with Will. The words slid on her lips but all of a sudden children's screams invaded the room and Karen put an awkward end to the harsh conversation she was having with Stanley.

She looked how his features softened immediately; how he bent over to grab his son then made him twirl around. The little boy was bursting out laughing, completely unaware of the scene he had vaguely witnessed though. How many arguments had she missed between her parents as a kid? Shaking her head to nobody in particular Karen exited the library. She got stopped by Olivia in the corridor as the girl grabbed her hand with an ounce of incertitude in her gaze.

"Do you want to play with me, Karen? I'm bored."

Karen sighed, softly though; not at all exasperated. But she nonetheless shook her head before making a few steps towards the stairs.

"No honey, I have a headache. I need to have a rest."

She was heading to her bedroom with the firm intention to stay there for the rest of the afternoon _ monotone Sunday _ but as she passed in front of the main lobby, she noticed her bag abandoned on an armchair. She didn't think about it twice, just grabbed the item and left.

xxxxxxx

The smoke passed through her lips, wandered in her mouth before going down to her lungs then rushed to her head dizzily. She had tried a lot of drugs if not all of them until now but the hardest ones had never had her preference. Smoking pot was different, relaxing and fresh for reminding her of her adolescence.

Her hand caressed his chest and she tended the joint to him; stared back at the ceiling. She had rushed out of the penthouse and called Will, met him at the hotel in The Upper West Side. She hadn't thought about anything this time, only released her anger and frustration on her friend in the most carnal way she had ever used. He hadn't protested at all, on the contrary. It had been rough but yet extremely exciting, satisfying.

Leaned on his bare stomach she turned her head and smiled at him with a rare sweetness. She was high and felt like she was floating somewhere in between. Her tiptoes began to play with the sheets of the bed as the sun pierced through the window and came to caress her skin.

They had reached another stage, a lot more dangerous if not plainly sad one. Using sex to escape from day-to-day problems was a bitter symbol of instantaneous failure. She knew it, as well as he did but it was so easy to pretend to be unaware.

She rolled on her stomach and kissed his belly button. Her hand slowly slid down between his legs. She felt him shiver under her touch, sigh. She smiled. His skin was soft and hot against her tongue, between her lips. As her mouth finally joined her fingers on him she looked up, searched for his eyes. A flame of lust was lighting up her gaze, following the bold massage she was giving him. Her moan got lost against his flesh as he passed his hand through her hair then pushed her closer to him.

"Damn Karen, stop…"

His request took her aback. She frowned but nonetheless obeyed before passing her tongue over her swollen lips.

"Why, what's happening?"

Will's fingers went down on her nape. In a quiet motion he brought her back to his face, swallowed hard.

"I can't hold it any longer."

Karen winced mischievously, restraining a laugh that came to die in a hoarse and sexy voice. She straddled him and leaned over to capture his mouth.

She began to move her hips in a slow motion but the urge of their aroused feelings made her speed up the pace. Her breath became louder; her body was tensed. The heat of his flesh brushing hers was sending shivers to her spine in an icy motion.

Her eyes remained locked with his, their faces mere inches away from each other as if they were able to feed themselves of their respective breaths in a mutual motion. There wasn't lust anymore in her gaze, just the singular veil of weakness _ to be at the mercy of her partner _ mixed with the irrepressible, boiling sensation warming up her lower stomach; the one that made her legs shake.

Nobody ever stared at the other in the eye in such a particular moment. It was intimidating and tended to break down the self-confidence nonetheless released by the intensity of the feelings. But whenever Karen dared to do it, it took her away in an odd world of honesty and trust.

She never regretted it.

Will intensified the thrusts. She finally kissed him.


	12. What the night brings on

**What the night brings on**

She loved vodka for the way it embraced her throat in a burning caress, a prohibited one that stirred up an odd need she never dared to talk about. The vapors of alcohol went dizzily to her head and all of a sudden the world seemed to be right, a bit less sad and cold. The diversion was furtive _ if not ridiculously enough inexistent _ but at least did she feel understood; for whatever reason that most of the people wouldn't have got.

She didn't drink that much, only when her life was falling down and as she looked around for support, all she came to face was the reflection of a lonely woman in a harshly honest mirror. Did it happen a lot, those moments of solitude? For doing her best to ignore them, she never tried to develop the slightest wonder about those weak parts; not that it was shameful but it did make her sad.

She brought the glass to her lips, swallowed the drink at the same time as her tears. It hurt. She frowned. Her cigarette was dying slowly, abandoned on the edge of a marble ashtray. She looked at it blankly then bit her lips. The seconds were flying in her head at the speed of some wicked trick, scaring her a lot more than what she would have confessed. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath but it didn't change the slightest thing. For once her insomnia would have nothing to do with Will.

Stanley was gone for his business trip. They hadn't talked at all since their last argument, the one that Mason had interrupted. Had it been that harsh? She hadn't even been able to make the slightest difference with all the other ones.

She sobbed.

She was crashing down slowly, alone. Maybe she was just good at failing; why, it was still a skill.

She grabbed her notebook but barely read the names on it. She knew the list by heart now and the way all her male acquaintances had turned her down one after another. She couldn't blame some effect of surprise _ anyone knew how socialites worked _ but it was hard to realize one's loneliness when all the boiling life going around seemed so real.

Her Blackberry vibrated on the table; such an odd sound, a stifled one. With her fingertips she made it turn around then stared at the little message icon appear on the screen. Anonymous missive; she opened it.

_I love you Amanda. I wish you were here with me tonight._

The sweetness of it lit up a smile on her lips; no matter her phone number was obviously not the right one. Sometimes mistakes could be seen as blessings. She decided to take it as a sign.

_Please come with me tomorrow, please. I wouldn't ask it to you if I had any other choice but I don't. I'm sorry but please, come with me._

Will's name appeared on the screen as the validation process got to an end. At this point she didn't care anymore if her request sounded desperate and shameful. She remembered the words he had said the first time she had asked him and until now she had respected his opinions but it was before realizing that he was the only man she could rely on when Stanley wasn't around; even when he was…

Five minutes passed by, no reply. Perhaps he was on a date, as much as it seemed hard to believe. The night had fallen over New York for a very long while but she knew that he wouldn't be sleeping. He hadn't suggested any encounter though. Her heart speeded up its pace. Was he tired of their affair?

She looked aside in an attempt to forget about it but her gaze fell on the dress she would be wearing the next evening. She couldn't attend the party all by herself; they would make fun of her, gossip sticking to her back with the sharpness of hypocritical minds.

Focused on the dress she blindly grabbed her glass but it slid off of her hands, broke into a thousand pieces on the floor. The vodka caressed her bare feet, matching the shape of her pale skin. She kneeled down and proceeded to pick up the little diamonds littered everywhere around. Carefully, she could cut herself.

She grabbed the major piece of glass and stared at it. Her sight was blurry. She had taken off her contact lenses and couldn't see very well. Cut herself; how come such a dark idea turned all of a sudden so tempting?

Flirting with the limits she caressed the skin along her veins with the glass, got farer from the blue line; a bit stronger. Her blood appeared in a deep red drawing a wavy path on her arm. She frowned and brought immediately the injury to her lips.

Her Blackberry vibrated. She grabbed it.

_Alright, I will. I can't talk to you now, I'm with Jack and Grace. Have a good night._

Her relieved smile very soon faded away as her dramatic mood focalized on the end of his reply. They hadn't invited her tonight, hadn't talked about any plan but yet Will's message was clear enough to make her guess that they were together; no matter it was so late.

Tears began to run down on her face. Why did she always have to feel apart? They were all she actually had _ the closest relation she had ever lived until then _ but still, sometimes she felt in the way and they wouldn't dare to confess it out loud in front of her.

She looked at her bedroom, listened to the silence of the manse. In an awkward motion she grabbed the bottle of vodka and threw it angrily against the wall.

Was it so hard to see that she hated her life?


	13. The limits are far behind

**The limits are far behind**

She leaned over and her lips brushed his; slowly at first until she renewed the kiss and her tongue met his. Something happened then, a sort of warmness in her lower stomach that suddenly spread all over her body. It made her shiver and smile and as she passed her hand through his hair she couldn't help wishing for more, passing underneath his skin in order to rest there for the rest of her life. It was the exact definition of her relation with Will: quiet and hidden, personal and singular, yet intense. Their lips broke apart but their tongues remained intertwined; just a furtive breath before another fusion, a deeper one.

Her legs made contact with his and she sat down on his lap. His fingers travelled up her thighs, drawing little patterns on her skin until they reached her stockings and began to play with them. She was concentrated on his lips, their softness; and the heat of his body pressed against hers.

Someone knocked on the door. They stopped, swallowed hard. She stood up, put back her high heels on and went to the lobby.

There he was, standing in the middle of the corridor with his arms crossed on his chest and this smirk on his lips just about to break into the sweetest smile that he often dared to offer her in the privacy of their lives. They weren't supposed to say anything out loud because it would have sounded too serious _ so not like them at the end _ but deep inside Karen knew what a good friend Beverly Leslie was.

Leaning on the doorframe nonchalantly, the short man studied her from head to toe before raising an eyebrow and narrowing his eyes.

"Well I'm sorry if I interrupted you in anyway… I just wanted to check that…"

His voice got lost in her head. She bit her lower lip. She had introduced Will as a friend but obviously the rumors were already spreading all over the country club of the island. For a furtive second she had felt like claiming that she paid for his body, a sthort of gigolo that she would have hired. But then she had looked up at Will and her lie had died in the depths of her bitter mind long before they even thought about reaching her lips. She couldn't do that to him, to anyone. Cheating on Stanley was shameful enough not to make it public.

"Excuse me but I would like to make myself presentable for dinner. Since I'm the host, it's my duty to make the stars green with envy tonight. See you soon, Beverly."

She came to close the door but he stopped it with a confusing strength. He held her gaze without saying anything. A veil of incertitude was lighting up his features. She opened her mouth to reply but found herself in the complete impossibility to do so. Beverly had crossed the lines of their friendship and for the very first time seriousness had won over the rest with a dark apprehension.

She had never been a good liar.

She had never meant to hurt Stanley either.

When the silence turned uncomfortable enough Karen made a step backwards and closed the door.

"Is everything alright?"

She nodded at Will, her eyes fixed on the door. A tear suddenly caressed her cheek and came to die on the edge of her lips. Her tongue swept it away. A salty taste invaded her mouth. She turned around and looked at him. He had remained in the bedroom all the time, quiet.

"Yeah I guess so, honey."

"You look pale. You should sit for a while."

"No, I need to take a bath. I just… Open the French windows, would you? This suite needs fresh air and I want to hear the waves crashing below."

She passed next to him but avoided his gaze then found an oppressive shelter in the bathroom. All of a sudden the murmur of the ocean caressed her ears. It was peaceful, yet majestic but reassuring. She loved it a lot, like an old lullaby she would have learned as a child and it would come up to her mind whenever she felt sad.

She stepped into the tub and sat down, leaned her head backwards; closed her eyes. Something was weighing over her heart. She thought about Will. What could he be doing now, waiting desperately for the next order to find a reason to move on? Maybe sat on the bed or checking his emails if not calling Grace to tell her how he missed her; she was corrupting everyone, with her own venom.

She was about to let her sob take possession of her when his voice _ so close _ made her swallow it back with an impressive effectiveness. She turned her head around to realize that he was kneeled down next to her. How long had he been there for? She frowned, taken aback.

His fingertips brushed her temple and pushed away a strand of wet hair but he didn't say anything. His eyes remained focalized on his own gesture, the sweet awkwardness of it.

"I apologize, Will."

She rushed in his arms, completely unaware of the fact he was fully dressed while she was bragging litters of water over him. He broke apart and cupped her face in his hands as a honest smile lit up his features.

"Nobody should be sad on the fourth of July."

She laughed silently, softly; then leaned over to capture his lips.

Sometimes she wondered what had happened of her dreams, the ones she used to have about him when her fantasies only took place in her head and the world was safe enough somehow. She had nothing to worry about but a couple of shameful dreams that nobody would ever know about. What had become of them now that she was in his arms?

It would have been better if she had kept her insomnia. At least it would have prevented her from this guilt that she felt whenever she realized that she would never wish to come backwards and start it all over if she had had the possibility to do so. It was too late now, way too late.


	14. The fourth of July and I

**Fourth of July and I**

Three pills landed in her hand. She looked at them, hesitated but finally only kept one and gulped it down immediately; without any water. She couldn't even remember the last time she had actually needed to drink in order to absorb medicine. She closed her eyes, massaged her temples. The blood pressure was too high, hitting on her brain with the violence of a latent headache.

"Is it a migraine or something? You know you can cancel and have a rest if you need it."

"No, I'm okay. It's nothing, nothing at all."

A smile began to play on her lips even before her opening her eyes, as if she knew that he was staring at her mouth, waiting for the detail that would reassure him. She finally looked at him. He was frowning, maybe not that worried but taken aback. Obviously Will didn't like when things happened out of a plan. They were less easy to face then. Karen shrugged then rolled her eyes.

"Do you feel sick or something?"

"No, I've had headaches since the age of six. It's when I started wearing glasses so basically right now it means that I should take out my contact lenses; not that anyone is going to notice the slightest difference anyway."

What Will took as a bitter mark of dark humor resulted to be true enough to sound cruel and sordid. They walked into the main restaurant and as the minutes passed by slowly, the evening slowly adopted the shades of some socialite hypocrisy.

Host or guest they were all self-absorbed in their ridiculous integrity, the sparkling flame of egocentrism lighting up their eyes. Will wasn't a novice in this kind of events but for some reason that night, the socialites' behavior sounded harsher, probably way too close to a truth we prefer to let unknown.

And lost in the middle of the crowd, Karen kept on smiling brightly. Was she also fooling everyone or she had succumbed for a very long while yet to the dead hope that she might get to a change? She wasn't naïve but maybe too ambitious and at the end it was all the same.

She turned around _ a glass of Champagne in hand _ and burst out laughing, shaking her head to some woman. Her purple satin dress moved with fluidity, caressed her ankles with the lightness of a delicate touch. Her eyes caught his up but she didn't smile at him. She had spent most of the time far away from him, led by the confusion of their relation and the image she was supposed to give of them in public. Nothing sounded right enough, friend or lover. As soon as she finally opted for one, a wave of guilt spread over her mind and she bit her lip, renouncing to settle them down under a word.

Why did everything have to be defined anyway? Perhaps people should let a chance to unspoken things and they would have evolved _ or not _ according to the passing of time and the movements of a heart.

Sending everything to hell without caring about people's opinions; it was tempting but yet impossible.

The air became oppressive. She excused herself and went out on the terrace. Her headache was still pressing against her temples but the alcohol tended to sweeten it softly. Smiling politely at nobody in particular since the groups were in full discussion, she went down the stairs and walked through a narrow path. The breeze was warm. It caressed her nape with the sensuality of a light kiss planted during a love making session and you could feel the breath of your partner on your flesh; the contrast of the intense thrusts with the sweetness of the unexpected gesture.

They were coming closer to midnight when the sky lit up of multicolored drops of light and the fireworks pounded loud against your chest; your whole body turning green, red, blue and you couldn't help smiling before it. Why was it so bewitching?

She stopped by an oak tree and leaned against it, facing the dark ocean spread somewhere below. The music of the reception suddenly ceased as the clicking of the sailboats coming from the harbor pierced the night in a peaceful harmony.

A smile lit up her face but she didn't look at him. His presence was far from being surprising. He had observed her most of the evening so when she had finally given him a chance to reach her, he had logically followed her steps outside the country club. Everything wasn't unexpected in life but it still could bring hopeful thoughts, like now.

"Is it the best spot to watch the fireworks?"

"Take me in your arms."

Her sudden confession might have taken him aback but he didn't hesitate the slightest bit and very soon Karen found herself against him, feeling her lungs with his scent; a sentiment of loneliness spreading over her slowly. She shivered, searched for his eyes. They kissed.

Her hands slid up his chest as their embrace got lost in a silent despair of hope and failures, burning ones that seemed to inhabit their minds and ruined a so-called happiness. She felt his fingers press her waist, his leg brush her knees; then all of a sudden the first fireworks appeared. They broke apart and looked instinctively at the sky.

How come a second could change a whole life? The bases seemed so strong, so firm. It didn't match with the idea of a weak card house. But still, it always ended up happening like that. Still in his arms Karen looked aside; froze. It didn't take her long to realize that he had seen a lot more than she would have wished; way too much.

Beverly Leslie was there, standing a few steps away from her. He didn't look mischievous or delighted but hurt and disappointed. And at this exact moment Karen understood that her life had probably broken into pieces.


	15. Deadend suite

**Dead-end suite**

Beverly Leslie disappeared from her life at this exact moment. The fireworks lit up the sky of the national colors and he turned around, got swallowed by the night and the darkness of her heart. She didn't hold any tear. Her mind was too dry to feel like crying so she concentrated back on Will's fingers intertwined with hers; the way his thumb was caressing the back of her hand. It sounded wrong and unfair but it was all that was left at the end. She had lost a friend _ a very good one _ for whatever craziness she had settled over.

It had nothing to do with remorse but a general sensation that her decisions were leading her to an inevitable crash, little by little; one thing after another one. Some day she would look around then realize that the game was over and she hadn't won. Lost among the ruins of failed intentions, she would go on lonely without the possibility to ever start it all over again because it was something that only happened in dreams.

From then on insomnia stole her nights and she spent an incredible amount of time staring at the ceiling of her bedroom in the dark; observing the way Will's chest moved peacefully whenever he stayed over for the night. The days were passing by, weighing more and more on her heart. The odd feeling was oppressing, bitter. But curiously enough it wasn't her life with Stanley that got affected _ as if it were already dead anyway _ no. She just missed Beverly and began to wish nothing but coming back in time then draw a line under everything.

Her affair with Will had slowly slid down a path that had nothing to do with the fantasies she had had once. Their encounters owned something more, a disturbing shade of a strange realism. It wasn't an addiction but the obvious appearance of prohibited sentiments. It didn't stop them though, losing control a bit more every time they met each other.

The phone rang during a cold morning of September. As usual she didn't pick it up and feigned to focalize on some article. It might have changed a lot of things at the end, especially her guilt that spread for the rest of her life over her mind. Grace answered and Karen got hit by the harshness of reality.

Was she getting punished for what she was doing or she should see it as a sign that it was time to put an end to it before irreversibility ruining her life definitely? She rushed to the hospital, barely paid attention to Will as he also arrived. Grace had accompanied her but the distress of her loneliness was too high to actually appreciate the gesture. The wait seemed to last an eternity but when she finally got allowed to enter Stanley's bedroom _ and she saw him there _ Karen swallowed hard then turned the page.

A minor heart attack cleared up all the lines of their marriage. She wasn't in love with Stanley _ had probably never been _ but she cared way too much for him, for them; for his own way of loving her.

"Excuse me."

Sat on the edge of the hospital bed Karen smiled at him, softly. A wave of heat spread over her body and the first tears fell down on her face. Did Stanley really think that she was crying for him? She always doubted about it. His infidelities had been obvious all the time so she just assumed that hers had been so as well.

She only had more difficulties to deal with them properly. Her mind stifled the hopes of her heart and within a second she understood that she had drawn a line under Will.

She didn't call him, didn't require another encounter. He never tried anything and even started dating again. Her dedication to Stanley probably settled down an implicit understanding over the two of them and they slowly turned the lights off over their affair.

She fought an impressible amount of times against the idea to think about what they had lived. Her nights turned cold, her days empty. But at least it sounded right enough; who had said that her marriage was supposed to make her happy anyway? She had given her life to Stanley ten years earlier and as much as it could easily be considered as a real mistake, they could only deal with it now and pretend to overcome crisis after crisis, like any other couple.

She didn't get into any sort of depression. Jack and Grace were there; Will too, in his own way. Her love life might have been over but since she was the only one to blame, Karen stayed quiet; kept on smiling as if nothing had happened or changed.

Her dreams came back unexpectedly in the winter as they were approaching Christmas time. All of a sudden she felt his flesh against hers and the heat of his lips brushing her inner thighs. Forgotten sensations seemed to rush back through her veins, hit her heart with the bitterness of missed occasions. When she opened her eyes and faced the darkness of the bedroom _ the shadows of the furniture reflected on the walls _ a pale smile lit up her face. She sighed.

A charity event held in mid-February put a definitive end to the previous months she had been living. Until then Karen had tried her best to avoid this kind of evenings because as much as she missed him, she knew that she would fail if she ever came to face Beverly.

She ordered a drink and froze as his laugh filled the room. She looked up, blushed. He was in the corner near the fireplace, speaking to some young man if not obviously flirting with him. If people had come to know about the reason why they had put an end to their friendship, they would have probably pointed out at Beverly Leslie whose fidelity had long been gone if it had ever been at all. But Karen couldn't blame him for the disappointment he had felt over her when he had seen her with Will. The short man had always admired her commitment to Stanley. It had sounded so logical at some point of her life that she felt like she hadn't even respected her own persona.

With a shy courage she made a few steps towards Beverly but stopped as his interlocutor pronounced her name.

"By the way, what happened with your dear Karen Walker?"

"Oh, she's the one who got away..."

She never tried to reach him. The tone of his voice being so dry and bitter, she simply turned around and looked for Stanley; thinking about nothing but the moment she would close her eyes _ laid in bed _ then find herself alone with her secret fantasies, an aborted love story.

Her sleepless nights with Will.


End file.
